carved bookcases, satin from cardinals' beds, and the
rest--is covered by the proceeds of our books during the last two
winters. This is satisfying, isn't it? We shall stand safe within the
borders of our narrow income even this year, and next year comes the
harvest! We shall go to England in the spring, and return _home_
to Italy. Do you understand? Mr. Kenyon, our friend and counsellor,
writes to applaud--such prudence was never known before among poets.
Then we have a plan, that when the summer (this summer) grows too hot,
we shall just take up our carpet-bag and Wilson and plunge into the
mountains in search of the monasteries beyond Vallombrosa, from
Arezzo go to St. Sepolchro in the Apennines, and thence to Fano on the
seashore, making a round back perhaps (after seeing the great fair at
Sinigaglia) to Ravenna and Bologna home. As to Rome, our plan is to
give up Rome next winter, seeing that we _must_ go to England in the
spring. I _must_ see my dearest sisters and whoever else dear will see
me, and Robert _must_ see his family beside; and going to Rome will
take us too far from the route and cost too much; and then we are not
inclined to give the first-fruits of our new apartment to strangers if
we could let it ever so easily this year. You can't think how well
the rooms look already; you must come and see them, you and dear Mr.
Martin. Three immense rooms we have, and a fourth small one for a
book room and winter room--windows opening on a little terrace,
eight windows to the south; two good bedrooms behind, with a smaller
terrace, and kitchen, &c., all on a first floor and Count Guidi's
favorite suite. The Guidi were connected by marriage with the Ugolino
of Pisa, Dante's Ugolino, only we shun all traditions of the Tower
of Famine, and promise to give you excellent coffee whenever you will
come to give us the opportunity. We shall have vines and myrtles
and orange trees on the terrace, and I shall have a watering-pot and
garden just as you do, though it must be on the bricks instead of the
ground. For temperature, the stoves are said to be very effective in
the winter, and in the summer we are cool and airy; the advantage
of these thick-walled palazzos is coolness in summer and warmth in
winter. I am very well and quite strong again, or rather, stronger
than ever, and able to walk as far as Cellini's Perseus in the
moonlight evenings, on the other side of the Arno. Oh, that Arno in
the sunset, with the moon and